Is Love Alive?
by void-nogitsune
Summary: Sam stalks forward and presses his hands against the wall beside either side of Dean's head. He leans in close, sucking up the air blowing out of Dean's lips. His brother freezes like a deer in headlights, and he can practically feel the thump of his heart against his chest.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters in this story

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"_That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean. Can't fill it, __**can't**__. Not with food or drink. Not even with sex. You can smirk, and joke, and lie to your brother, lie to yourself-__**but not to me**__. I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how__** broken**__ you are, how defeated. You can't win and you know it, but you just keep fighting. Just keep going through the motions. You're not hungry, Dean, because inside you're already dead."_

-Famine

The mirror is scattered in pieces around him, surrounding him, reflecting him. He doesn't want to see it, doesn't want to accept the mess that he has created, the mess that he is. He falls to his knees, the only thing he can really do. There is nothing left. Nothing. And that is the worst discovery of all.

"_De-_" A panicked voice, cut off by a choked gasp, "_Dean, what-"_

It's already too late. It's always been too late. With a wry grin, Dean lifts his head and swallows up his brother with dead eyes. _Don't look at me, please, please don't look at me._

"What happened? Dean. _Dean_, answer me. Come on, get up. Don't just-don't…" Sam's voice trails off, drowns in the truth and Dean has given up. Warm hands are gripping his upper arms, hauling him up, trying to lift the weight.

"That's it. That's it. Come on, let's get you out of here."

It is Hope whispered in his ear, and Dean wants to break it, wants to destroy it. There is no such thing, never was. He allows himself to be moved out of the bathroom and onto his bed. The floor is peppered with his blood, iron mixing with fibers.

"Cas. Castiel. Please. Dean needs help."

A shout to the heavens, a desperate grasp at redemption. _Please, please, don't come. Don't you dare come for me. _

"Dean."

But of course, _of course_ he comes. Of course he kneels in front of the broken man, wings a protective barrier. His blue eyes are searching Dean's soul, but he's got nothing left. It startles the stoic angel, and Dean can't find it in him to be sorry.

"What happened?" Gentle words etched with panic, confusion, possession.

"I-I don't know. I went out to get some food, and I came back and he-he was just _there._ Kneeling on the floor surrounded by broken glass and blood. I don't know what happened, he was fine before…I don't-"

Panic, panic, panic. Dean knows Sam needs to understand what happened. He needs to fix it, piece Dean together, and protect him. But he is not an entity that can be fixed. He is the particles in the air-unreachable.

"Dean. Dean."

Deep, quiet words resonating inside his soul, inside his mind. It was always him. It was always on _his_ shoulders. Dean averts his eyes, watches his own blood seep into the rug. What the hell was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to make them understand? He could not be saved. Not by his brother, and certainly not by his angel.

"Dammit, Dean. What the hell happened? Won't you just please-" Sam bites off his own words and swallows them back down. His brother's eyes are searing into his own, reducing him to nothing. It's always the same affect, and Sam feels useless against those eyes.

"It was a mistake." Dean speaks slowly, thickly. He doesn't trust his own voice, doesn't trust the words that want to escape.

"A mistake? How is breaking a mirror a fucking mistake? Dean, don't you dare avoid this."

Sam is furious. He cannot take Dean throwing on his false bravado again. There's something more to this, something wrapped in agony and he needs to know what and why and how. He wants to crawl inside of his brother's skin, pick apart his muscles and examine his cells. He wants to carve a piece of his soul out and replace it with his own. He needs. Needs so much.

"Dean." Sam's voice is full of threat, bubbling over the low pitch and accumulating in the air.

Beside him, Cas's wings shift in the air, stretch out and curl back in. Dean turns his eyes away, glares at his hands and the way they are clenched too tight.

"It was just a mistake, Sam." His threat is prominent, scratching at Sam's own warning with a quiet desperation. _Don't ask, don't ask, don't fucking ask. _

"I'm sick of you acting like a brick wall, Dean. Do you think I'm stupid enough to not notice? Do you think I'm going to just ignore this? Continue on like everything is fucking normal? You tell me what is going on, right fucking now."

It's all of his anger, all of his frustration spilling from his soul. Sam is tired of it, tired of putting on an act for the sake of his older brother. He's tired of not being able to mend, always being forced to let the elder crack apart more. He wouldn't do it anymore. Couldn't. "Dean, look at me."

"Sam." Dean stands up in one swift movement, causing the two before him to take a staggering step back.

He locks his eyes with his brother's, throat choked up and palms aching. Sam's own hands are clenched painfully tight, shaking with the strength he is using to not reach out to the shorter man, hug him to his chest and force him back together.

"What is it, Dean?" Castiel speaks this time, low and calm-the eye of the storm.

It startles the two brothers, breaks them out of their own world with a splash of cold, ocean spray. Forrest green clashes with electric blue, and it is a whole other universe that is spread out between them. Dean's teeth press together, because he knows he cannot stop them. He turns his head sharply, allowing their gazes to trace along the sides of his jaw, the outline of his lips.

"I-What is it you think I see when I look in the mirror?"

It's not really a question, because he knows they know. His body is full of hell-it's spilling out from his pores, covering his skin in the torture he laid upon the millions of souls assigned to him. He is covered in their pain and it continues to accumulate on the tops of his cells.

"I'm tired. Tired of looking at my reflection and seeing what I've done. Tired of holding myself back, holding the need to destroy back. Whatever I do, however many souls I save now, it's never enough. Never _will _be enough. How am I supposed to live like that? How?"

Dean realizes with a sudden clarity that he's _not _living. Never was-his soul was still down in that deep abyss. His soul was in hell, and nothing, not even an angel, could save him from that. He falls back onto his bed, head in his hands. He is dead. He is nothing. Two hands lift his head, force him back to Earth, and Dean finds himself swimming in blue orbs. He's suffering inside his own head, and Castiel will not allow it.

"You fight back, Dean. What happened in hell, it was not your fault. Alastair is a force that is not to be reckoned with. He was nearly unbreakable here on earth, and in his own domain? There was nothing you could have done. Do not blame yourself for giving in. You have given so much already. You could not give anymore, and that was beyond your own strength, beyond your own will."

Dean's eyebrows crumple together and he sucks in a breath. Was he supposed to believe in that? Was he supposed to smile and agree? He can't remember anymore. He can't remember what he used to do. Instead, he finds that he can only keep staring, losing himself in those blue depths. He's missing and he vaguely wonders if anyone will ever find him. And if they do, what will they find?

A hand lays itself on his shoulder, anchoring him down, reeling him in. Sammy's face looms next to Cas's, and Dean knows that he is searching. Desperately searching, brown eyes skimming the green hues in Dean's own orbs.

"Dean, what Cas said is right. It isn't your fault. Look at what I've done. I released _Lucifer_. But it was beyond me. That demon blood overtook each inch of me and transformed me. I betrayed the people I love, because I thought I was righteous. But I wasn't, I was far from it. I know that now. And do you know why I'm able to continue fighting today? Dean?" The elder Winchester slides his eyes to Sam's in acknowledgement.

"It's you. It's always been you. You took care of me, raised me, always made sure I was okay. Even though I walked out the door when you told me to never come back, you came for me. It was the last thing I expected-to hear you shouting and banging on the other side of that door. It shook me up, cleared my mind for just a moment. Because you were _there_ and you hadn't given up on me,"

"Sure, you've come close to it, and sure, we've had our fair share of fights. But you've always told me that family is family-and nothing, nobody could come in between that. You are what makes me strong, Dean. So let me…let me be what makes you strong." Sam finishes with a squeeze to his brother's shoulder, letting his words sink into the other's skin and find shelter.

He watches with patient eyes, watches as the words connect with the electrical circuits in Dean's brain and as understanding clouds his face. Dean's eyes widen slightly, liquid clinging to his lashes. He is attempting to piece himself together, to become a brother again.

"Sam…I…" Dean trails off and drags a hand down his face.

What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to convey what he was feeling? He lifts his eyes warily and catches the look Sam is giving him. It is not desire, it is not want, or greed, or evil. It is _need_. Pure, pure need and it jars Dean down to his bones. Something inside of him shifts, and his body is surging forward before he can register the movement in his own mind. In two seconds flat, he's got an armful of Sam, and there is no need for words.

Sam's hands find their way around Dean's arms, trail along his shoulder blades, and latch onto his back. He tightens his hold; almost as if he is Dean's glue and he's trying to convey that he will never let Dean go, never let him fall apart. His brother's body is warm against his chest, and something balloons inside of him. He drags Dean's body closer, afraid that if he doesn't, the man will simply cease to exist.

"Sam. Dean." Cas's monotone voice rips through the two men like an electrical current, and Sam struggles to let Dean out of his embrace. The shorter man steps away, creating a gapping space between them and Sam feels a spark of anger towards the angel.

"I uh. Sorry, Cas. I'm okay now." Dean scratches the back of his head, a half-shit smile on his face.

Castiel narrows his eyes, mouth pressed tightly together. He doesn't know whether to believe the man before him, doesn't know how to read the new emotions swimming in his eyes. He was never very good with feelings, and this is a whole new territory he is treading into.

"Dean. You must know that I will always come when you call. I…share a profound bond with you. And you make me…feel. I am connected to you, Dean. Do you understand?" The words are thick in his mouth, and his vessel's heart is pounding against his chest, trying to break through the cavity surrounding it.

"Uh, sure, Cas. Thanks. I appreciate it." Dean gets a strange sense that there is something more lodged in between the angel's words, but he finds he can't concentrate with Sam's eyes searing into his back.

Cas shakes his head in frustration and stalks forward, face mere inches from Dean's. He can smell the alcohol on his breath; can see the skin in between the stubble on his jaw. A feeling bubbles up within him, caged by the flesh that surrounds his bones.

"No, Dean. You do not understand what it is I have told you. I am not a soldier of God. I gave it up, all of it, for you. I am not my own entity any longer…I am yours." There is a pause before the younger Winchester moves between the two men, a wall of certainty.

"Cas, you don't know what you're talking about. You-"

"Sam. Move out of my way. I have lived a thousand more lives than you could ever dream of. Do not assume that you understand me. You are my friend, Sam, but I have priorities."

There is a threat in the angel's voice, grating down the mental wall between them. The air bristles with tension, and Cas's eyes are cold and calculating.

"What the hell, Cas?"

Sam doesn't know why his muscles are filling with adrenaline. He doesn't know why his heart is constricting and why there is a message circulating through his system telling him to protect. He takes a step back, bumping into Dean's chest.

"Hey, there, Abraham Lincoln. Watch yourself." He grouses, side-stepping to avoid Sam's backwards retreat.

"Dean, shut up." Both of the men snap, eyes locked on the other's and filled with contempt.

"Woah, hey. What the hell is wrong with you two? I just spilled my damn soul and now your telling me to shut up?" Dean asks incredulously, jaw hanging slack.

He doesn't understand the sudden tension in the air, doesn't understand the look shared between the two other men. He only understands the fact that he does not like this and that he should probably do something to stop it, whatever "it" was.

"I'm sorry, Dean. It's not like that." Sam turns to his brother, puppy dog eyes wet and shining. Dean almost flinches, but settles on a frown.

"Right, okay. How about you, Cas? Where's my apology?" He tries to joke around, slice a knife through the atmosphere clogging the room and get rid of it.

"I apologize as well, Dean. It is not you I have an issue with." Castiel explains, rolling a shoulder back.

Sam's jaw twitches, and Dean knows that he has missed something big. His eyebrows arch upwards as he watches the angel take a defensive stance.

"What? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Hey, come on, now. Don't let your feathers get all ruffled over nothing." He tries to take a step towards the blue-eyed man, but a large hand presses against his chest, keeping him in place.

"Dude, what the hell?" Dean backs up again, trying to maneuver around Sam's gigantic arm. Unfortunately for him, the younger seems intent on keeping him away from the angel.

"I swear to fucking god if you don't stop I'm going to kick a foot up your ass so hard it'll pop out of your damn mouth." Dean growls, fed up with Sam's little game.

"Dean, would you just trust me here?" Sam snaps back, muscles tightened over bone.

He doesn't want Dean near Castiel. He doesn't want Castiel's hands on Dean. He needs his brother to stay away, needs to protect him. There is something dangerous in the angel's eyes, and Sam will be damned to hell again if he lets anything happen.

"Trust you on what? It's _Cas_. The guy that's saved our sorry asses more times than we can count. You're acting like a fucking psychopath. I don't know what the hell is up with you two, but I'm sick of it already and can we please all remember the fact that I still have glass lodged in my skin?" Dean's voice nearly comes out in a whine, and he clears his throat loudly, pitch returning to normal.

"No, Sam is correct is his actions. He should be aware that I have more power than a human mind can process. He should also know that I would not use this power to bring harm to you. Every fiber of his being is on edge now because I am indeed, dangerous." Castiel explains, fingers curling and uncurling slowly.

The angel's veins are on fire, licking through his circulatory system and settling in the pit of his stomach like a smoldering ember. He knows what this feeling is, has felt it many times before and swallowed it back down-letting it building up in his lungs before it crippled him. Now it's choking off his air passages and clouding his mind. There is only one thought. One thought echoing through his head.

_Mine. Mine. Mine. _

Something erupts from deep inside Sam's chest, startling Dean. It's almost a growl; low and feral and it wraps around the room like a boa constrictor. Dean's eyebrows crumple together when the taller man takes a step forward, hand inching towards the knife in his back pocket. Cas mimics his actions, chin tilted up and eyes full of contempt. Before either man can make another move, Dean ducks forward, planting himself between them.

"All right, seriously? What the hell is with the cat and dog act? Give it a break; you've got nothing to fight about. We're supposed to be fighting together, remember? Team Freewill."

His lips rise up in a half-hearted smile, head throbbing. The men on either side of him suck up his words and spit them back out, lips pursed and muscles tightening. Dean shakes his head, disbelief hollowing out his features. What the fuck did he miss? How long had they been at each other's throats? And how in the _hell_ didn't he notice?

"Dean, get out of the way." Sam's voice is noticeably deeper, baritone notes sliding up each of Dean's vertebrae and latching onto his brainstem. Goosebumps rise on his arms, and he feels like such a damn girl, getting intimidated by his own damn brother.

"Are you forgetting who's the older brother here?" Dean hisses out through his teeth, turning his full attention to the tallest in the room. Sam's jaw ticks and he rolls his eyes to Dean.

"Of course not, _big brother_, but there are more important matters here than listening to your half-shit speeches." Sam doesn't mean to be harsh, but the words are sliding off of his tongue before he can fully process them. He bites down on his cheek the minute they formulate in the air, and he knows he hit a nerve when Dean's eyes flare up like a forest fire.

"My half-shit speeches, huh? And what about you?" Dean swivels his head to glare at Cas, "Is that what you think too? I don't care what the fuck kind of issues you two have, but you and Sam? You're all I've fucking got, and if you expect me to sit back on my damn ass and watch you two go at it, then you've got another fucking thing coming."

The two men glance at each other, and then look away. Dean is standing in between them, muscles twitching beneath his skin. Both Sam and Cas know that he would not hesitate to jump into the fight the second anybody made a move. They both knew that what he was saying was true; they _were _all he had. Sam swallows down the fury crawling up his throat and lays a hand on Dean's shoulder. Castiel tilts his head, eyes flickering.

"I didn't mean that, Dean. I'm sorry, okay? I just…We, uh." Sam pauses in his explanation, fingers tightening over the bulge of Dean's bicep.

"We want to protect you." Castiel says simply, straightening out of his defensive stance before taking a few steps forward, chest bumping against Dean's elbow.

"Excuse me?" Dean coughs over his surprise, turning towards Cas with an incredulous look on his face.

"As your angel, it is my duty to claim you and protect you. Sam, as your brother, also must protect and claim you."

"_Claim_ me? I mean, maybe I could get the protecting part, but fucking claim me? What the fuck am I, a tree?"

Sam cracks out a smile at his brother's outburst, "No, Dean. You know what we mean."

Dean suddenly feels crowded between the two men, and takes a step back. The two simply follow his retreat, almost as if their muscles are allowing them no other option.

"What you _mean_? What the hell do you _mean_? And what is this crap about you being my angel? I don't-that's—"

"I am your angel. I have told you before; I am not an angel of heaven. I am not an angel of the lord. I am yours, and therefore, you are also mine."

Sam bristles at the words, and tugs Dean towards him. The elder Winchester pulls away and stalks to the other end of the room, gears turning in his head. He watches the way Sam and Cas track his movements, watches the way they move around each other-almost as if they were both a threat. A threat to him.

"Are you two out of your damn minds? I've been hunting since I was a kid. I can protect myself. Don't act like I'm a fucking girl." He pauses for a second before something clicks inside of his mind. He presses his back against the wall, eyes blown out wide.

Sam notices his brother's look and breathes out slowly. "Do you understand now, Dean?"

"No. No, no fucking way. I'm your brother. I'm your older fucking brother. I _raised_ you. I changed your diapers. I put you to sleep at night." Dean feels like all of the air has escaped his body. His lungs are constricting painfully in his chest and his heart is thundering against his ribs.

"That was years ago. You're my older brother; you've been with me my whole life. You're the only one I've ever really had. And that's why—"

"No. No, Sam. You've got it wrong." Sam stalks forward and presses his hands against the wall beside either side of Dean's head. He leans in close, sucking up the air blowing out of Dean's lips. His brother freezes like a deer in headlights, and he can practically feel the thump of his heart against his chest.

"Have I? You don't really believe that, do you? You know as well as I do what this is. You've been fighting against it since you were nineteen. Did you really think I wouldn't notice, Dean? Did you really think I'd turn out any different than you?"

He nudges forward a little more and catches the stubble on Dean's jaw with his lips. His brother sucks in a deep breathe before shoving his hands against his chest. Sam takes a step back, tongue swiping over his lips.

"I-It's wrong. It's wrong, Sammy. You know that." Dean runs a hand through his hair and exhales sharply, "You don't want to be like me. I've only ever had you and Dad. I didn't care about anything else. It was always you on my mind. But you-you were different. It wasn't just me in your world. You think because I took care of you, you owe me something, but I don't need it. This is enough. I just need you as a little brother, Sam. All right?"

"You're wrong, Dean. I don't feel like I owe you something. Like this is mandatory. I want you. Brother or not, I want you. I don't care that a fucking angel wants to mark his damn territory; you've been mine since I was born. I don't want anybody else. I need you, and you can't change that."

Dean starts to open his mouth to protest, but he sees the look in his brother's eyes. He sees the possession, the want, the need. He can practically feel it rolling off of Sam's skin. He knows, deep down, that his brother's words are true. Dean knows he can't escape it, knows he doesn't even want to. He tears his eyes from Sam's and finds Castiel's blue ones searing into his own. His heart leaps into his throat, and he knows he's fucked no matter what he does.

"I can't fucking believe you two." He finally manages to say, moving to sit on his bed. "I mean, Cas, really? Do angels even fucking know what-what—"

"I only feel when I am with you, Dean. I know what this is, despite my lack of emotions in the previous millennia. As Sam has said, you cannot change it. You are mine…as well as Sam's." Castiel says, sliding his eyes over to Sam in acknowledgement. The taller man tightly nods back before moving to sit beside Dean on the bed.

"All right?" He asks, hesitantly leaning his shoulder against Dean's.

"No, it's not fucking all right you giant assholes. Would it really be so hard to continue on like fucking normal? I mean, the world is ending, and you have to go and do _this_? Haven't I got enou—" Sam's jaw twitches before he grabs Dean's shoulders and presses his mouth against his brother's.

Dean struggles uselessly against Sam before something bursts apart inside of him. Before he even realizes what he's doing, he's got Sam beneath him on the bed, pinned underneath his body. His hands are carding through his hair, mouth furiously moving against the younger's. Sam lets out a whine beneath him, hands finding their way around Dean's neck and clinging on for dear life. This is what he's wanted for so fucking long, and he'd be damned if he let go.

Cas watches the two brothers, wings unfurling slowly. There's something clawing inside of him, and when Dean separates his mouth from Sam's and turns toward him, Cas feels himself slipping off of a tight rope.

"Cas." Dean says lowly, eyes open half-mast.

The angel's jaw tightens before he's pressing his body against Dean's, catching his lip with his teeth and tugging. He pulls away and nuzzles his nose underneath Dean's jaw, tongue poking out to lick a stripe down his throat. A rumble erupts from Dean's chest, and Cas bites down roughly, sucking a mark into the smooth skin beneath his jaw.

"Dean, _fuck_." Sam breathes out when his brother presses his hips down, creating a delicious friction between the two men.

When his eyes meet Cas's, they come to a mutual agreement-Dean is both of theirs. Still, though, he can't help but to feel the possession creeping around his head. He grips Dean's hips and pulls them down against his, letting his brother feel the heat of his erection pressing against his thigh. Another rumble erupts and slides down Sam's spine.

Dean reaches an arm around and tugs at Cas's trench coat, trying to get it off and away. His other hand is working at the buttons on Sam's own shirt. After a few seconds of struggling, the two men push Dean's hands away and get rid of the offending clothing, throwing it onto the floor beside the bed. Their eyes latch onto Dean's clothed body, and before he knows it he's got two pairs of hands ripping at his layers of shirts.

"Woah, woah, calm down, would ya? I just got this." He chuckles, gingerly setting his over-shirt on the floor next to Sam's crumpled up, slightly ripped polo.

"Don't care." Sam says, hands already working at Dean's black wife beater. Castiel sucks another mark on Dean's skin, this one right next to his collarbone and Dean practically growls.

"Shit, Cas, what are ya trying to do, eat me?"

"Maybe." Cas smirks, pulling his belt off and throwing it against the wall.

Dean swallows down any of his next comments and watches the angel shimmy slowly out of his pants and boxer briefs. His eyes trail down his smooth, pale chest to his creamy, white thighs and Dean feels himself going into overdrive. His attention is abruptly stolen away when Sam presses his naked thigh between Dean's legs.

"Get them off." He whispers, biting at his older brother's earlobe, hands pressing against his ribs.

Dean leans back against Sam's chest and slowly unbuttons his jeans. He can feel Sam's breathe hitch in his chest and a smirk finds it's way onto his face. He runs his thumb underneath his navel, dipping his fingers underneath the waistband of his briefs. His breath catches in his throat when his fingers brush over the tip of his erection, pre-come already dripping down his length. He rubs his thumb over the head, then brings it to his lips and sucks the creamy substance from his skin. He can feel Sam let out a rumble behind him. In front of him, Cas is frantically tugging off his briefs.

"Fuck, Dean." Sam breathes against his ear, hands finding their way to Dean's nipples. He rolls the rosy buds between his fingers, soaking up the low groan that falls from between Dean's lips.

"Yeah, baby boy. Just like that." Dean says, nails gripping onto the flesh of Sam's thigh.

Cas presses forward and steals the words from Dean's mouth, tongue rubbing against tongue. He drags his hands across Dean's abdomen to the curls resting below his navel. He feels Dean's breath hitch and presses his fingers against the hard length curling upwards.

"Cas. Cas just-_fuck." _Dean's words are cut off by a low growl when the angel's hand wraps around his length and squeezes.

He slowly moves his hand up and down, thumb rubbing over the pre-come beading at the tip. He can feel Sam's eyes track his movements, possession radiating off his skin. The angel meets the younger Winchester's eyes with a smirk before leaning down and flicking his tongue against the head of Dean's dick. Sam's growl echoes against the walls with Dean's own.

"Shit. Give me a little warning, huh?" Dean huffs, hips jerking up towards Cas's face.

The angel chooses not to answer, opting instead to swallow down the head of Dean's dick with his mouth, tongue rubbing along the underside. He holds Dean's hips down with his hands and groans when Dean's fingers grip at his hair. Sam grabs his brother's chin and jerks it to the side, mouth violently clashing against Dean's. He worms his tongue into the elder's mouth and nips at the swollen lips.

"What is it, baby boy? Hmm?" Dean asks, noticing the way Sam's muscles are coiled tight against his back, almost as if he's ready to spring. The younger doesn't answer; he just shoves his tongue further down Dean's throat, hands grasping desperately at his brother's shoulders, almost as if he's slipping. Dean twists his upper body around and releases a hand from Cas's hair to bury it in Sam's own.

"I've got you, Sammy. I've got you." He murmurs against his little brother's lips, hand stroking against his mop of brown hair. Sam groans and thrusts his hips up, erection rubbing along Dean's lower back.

"What, baby boy? This what you want?" Dean snakes his hand between them and grips Sam's leaking dick. "Yeah, you like that? Come on, tell me what you want."

"_De, _please." Sam gasps, blood boiling beneath his skin at the feel of Dean's hand hot and heavy on his dick. He almost can't handle the heat and he's swallowing down the need to crawl inside his brother's skin.

"Come on, baby." Dean encourages, fingers trailing down to squeeze at Sam's balls.

"I want-want you to fuck me." Sam stutters out. Dean lets out a low moan, dick twitching inside Cas's mouth.

"All right, Sammy, okay. If that's what you want." He says.

He trails his fingers lower, fingernail scraping against Sam's taint. Sam grabs Dean's wrist and pulls it to his face, sucking the thick fingers into his mouth. Dean's breath hitches as he watches Sam's mouth and tongue work over his fingers.

Below him, Cas suckles a little harder at his dick, trying to gain back Dean's attention. The elder Winchester lets out a low keen, hips jerking upwards once more. Cas smiles around Dean's dick, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Christ, Cas." He mutters, pulling the angel up to shove his tongue into his mouth.

"Did I do good, Dean?" Cas asks hesitantly, a blush working it's way onto his cheeks.

"Great, sweetheart." Dean says, attention averted towards Sam once more when he feels his brother pushing his fingers back towards his hole.

"Dean, me too." Cas says, watching the way Dean slowly presses a finger inside his brother, eyes softening with caution.

"You sure?" Dean asks, watching as Cas lies down beside Sam, legs spreading wide.

He nearly comes just from the sight of the two men side-by-side and ready for him. Castiel nods, snatching Dean's other hand to suck his fingers into his mouth. He slicks the digits with his saliva before popping them back out. Dean leans over his body to kiss him before positioning his fingers against his hole.

"I need you guys to hold yourselves open, okay?" Dean says, skin slick with sweat.

The two men below him spread wider, palms gripping at the fleshy meat of their ass cheeks. Dean presses his forefingers inside the both of them at the same time, watching their faces for any signs of pain. Sam lets out a hiss and Castiel adjusts his body, trying to push back down on Dean's finger. Dean bites his lip hard, trying to concentrate on going slowly. The heat of both of their bodies is driving him mad and his dick twitches almost violently between his legs. Sam grabs Dean's hand, guides another finger inside of him and Cas follows his lead.

"That's it. You are doing so well. So good, baby boy." Dean says, leaning down to nip at Sam's thigh. Cas buries a hand in Dean's hair, drags him over and Dean runs the length of his tongue over where his fingers are buried deep inside him and Cas groans loudly. He works his fingers in and out, in and out until Sam and Cas are both writhing on the bed, chests and faces flushed red. Dean leans down, licks a wet stripe up Sam's dick before suckling at the head, and soon his big hand is pushing at Dean's head, trying to get him away.

"D-Dean, stop. I'm going to-I need you to-" His words are cut off by a loud moan when Dean's head dips down and starts licking at his balls.

"What, baby boy? Tell me." Dean says, eyes smoldering.

He works a third finger inside Cas, presses upwards until the angel's back is arching, until Cas is enveloped in a white, hot heat. Sam scrambles away from Dean's fingers and grabs at his hair, forcing an open-mouthed kiss on him.

"Fuck me. Fuck me, Dean, _now_." Sam says into his mouth, teeth biting at swollen lips. Dean swallows down the words, fingers pressing harder into Cas before he pulls away altogether. The angel sits up, panting, hand wrapped around his dick. Dean leans forward to kiss him shortly on the lips.

"You're next." He whispers, before pulling away and positioning himself above his brother. Sam opens his legs wide, fingers playing with his loosened hole, his other hand rubbing over his nipples. Dean groans at the sight, feels like his body is overheating and lays a hand on Sam's cheek.

"You're sure this is what you want, baby boy?" He asks, because god, does he want it but he would never do anything to hurt Sam, never do anything to hurt his Sammy.

"Dean, you are all I have ever wanted. Please." Sam begs, and Dean feels something inside of him break, feels the heat take over and then he's pressing forward, forward, forward, until he's balls deep inside of his brother and groaning because it feels so good, so good, so fucking _good Sammy. _Cas is suddenly there, hands roaming Dean's body as he fucks into Sam and Sam is mewling and writhing. He wraps his legs around Dean's body, forces him to drive deeper inside of him.

"More De, harder, please." He rasps out, feeling like all the breath has been punched out of his chest but he needs more, he needs _all _of Dean.

Dean braces his hands on either side of Sam's head, pistons his hips harder and harder until Sam can't even manage to make a noise anymore; harder and harder until Sam's eyes are rolling into the back of his head. Dean grunts, leans down and licks at Sam's throat, bites a mark into the tan column of his neck and then wraps a hand around his cock.

"That's it, Sammy. Cum for me, baby boy." He mutters against the shell of Sam's ear, hand slip-sliding up and down his cock.

Sam's body spasms beneath him and suddenly he's coming hard, squirting up into Dean's hand and Dean fucks him through it, keeps moving until Sam is pulling away, too sensitive to the touch. Dean pulls out slowly, runs a hand through his brother's hair and presses a kiss to his brow. Sam smiles drowsily, eyes blissed out. Cas reaches out to pull Dean against his body, beginning to get restless.

"I know, sweetheart. I've got you." Dean assures, flipping them over so Cas is poised above him, sitting atop him and Cas runs his hands down Dean's chest, over his stomach and to his dick. Dean licks his lips and nods when Cas gives him a questioning look, and then the angel is guiding his cock inside of him, pressing downwards and Dean has to close his eyes because it's almost too much.

"D-Dean." Cas breathes out, shifting his weight on top of the human's dick. It feels so good, feels so right and hot and Cas can feel something burning low in his belly, can feel something tightening inside of him.

"Does it feel good, baby?" Dean asks, snapping his hips upwards, watching the way Cas flushes red and throws his head back with a moan.

"Y-Yes, Dean. It feels very good." Cas answers, trying to create a rhythm. He grinds back on Dean's cock while he fucks up into him, but it's too slow and the burning is threatening to eat him up so he digs his nails into Dean's chest and presses down harder. Dean feels the breathe leave his lungs and it feels so fucking good and he knows what Cas wants, can tell by the way his wing's are continuously furling and unfurling, so he braces his feet on the bed and snaps his hips upwards, again and again and again until Cas's own hips begin to stutter.

"Are you close, sweetheart?" Dean asks, and Cas isn't sure what he means by that but he feels like something is about to burst so he nods yes and then Dean's hand is on his cock, sliding up and down and he pulls the heat out of him and then he's coming all over Dean's chest.

His wings expand outwards, tips stretching upwards and he groans because it feels like heaven, feels even better than heaven. Dean pulls out and Cas lets out a whine because he feels empty now, but then Dean is pushing him down beside Sam and they both watch him, watch as he grabs his dick and jerks it, watches the way he bites his lips and looks at them like they are everything to him and then he's coming all over them and Cas knows that it's _his _way of marking them, and Sam knows that he'll always be Dean's baby boy and Cas will always be his sweetheart and Dean knows he's got his two guardian angels right alongside him.

* * *

**A/N: **In case any of you are confused, this takes place before season 6 and obviously after Dean returns from Hell and meets Castiel. So it's not in the later seasons where Sam and Cas are best buddies yet, hence the tension between them at first. I know it's a little bit out of character for them but, meh, I like to write possessive characters.


End file.
